Defying The Dark
by Ghostly Melody
Summary: This is MY version of PTO.I alter scenes, cut some out, and add in my own. I delve deeper into characters. It will NOT be yet another re-telling. There will be a happy ending  at least for ExC lovers . I hope you join me. Erik and Christine based.Rated T.
1. Prologue

**A/N-**

**Disclaimer- I own nothing, aside the writing. **

**This is POTO in my own words. And how I would of preferred it to end. Trust me, I am going to ALTER THE PLOT, and sculpt the story to MY vision**_**. It will not just be a remaking of the movie**_**. ;) **

Defying The Dark

Introduction

It has been said beauty emerges from within. Yet greets the public eye with fearful regard. Logic- as well as prior experiences- has proven both remarks undeniable.

If you examine past occasions (of which are directed to a certain matter on this subject) with consideration, you will discover that there is yet another statement affirmed true:

There is, in fact, a man beneath the mask. He dwells with uncertainty, and reveals his true self when continually provoked. His heart is chained to the hell in which he exists. Freedom is seldom earned, and when it proceeds, is conducted from the glimmering light of his pupil. The Ghost, as he is famously titled, is found lurking the descending halls, or residing below the floors. On occasion, he will surface, radiating havoc. Offering haunting melodies to those willing to listen. And allowing the others to progress in spreading false assumptions.

But, not without a price.

He knows love, a yearned-for emotion, is a bitter, bitter thing. It consumes the host and devours their sanity, blinding the individual from present tasks. In molten, scarlet wax it binds. There is never an escape from its fortifying walls.

And it was that thing which drove him mad.

The love-tipped arrow Cupid releases from his bow is of no significance, as it took not a passion-yielded weapon to assist with the couple falling in love, but of something entirely diverse. It is unsure whether or not it was the brief quarrels that almost every couple faces that aroused such passion, constant gifts and whispers of encouragement, or even the reverberating songs that they instantaneously spawned that generated such adoration.

Perhaps it was all that- and more. Love is not easily awakened from its brief slumber. It must fully develop from its primal stage, blossom to a passion, and proceed to be set into motion in order to be established.

There is love amidst fleeting loathing. It glimmers beneath the torture, longing to be set free. It all commences with the spark; the one assurance of progressing fervor-fueled fire. Although emotions may not be admitted until the conclusion of the guarantee, it is, with no ambiguity, pure.

Throughout both Angel's "legacies", hell will advance. It is short lived, and flees and brands with unsettling scars. Evil and darkness shall appear to be the single ruler of the domain, yet one thing is confirmed:

_Love, as always, prevails..._

**A/N (IMPORTANT) **

**Alright.. I am aware I have started YET another phic. And I apologize! But.. I don't wish for this one to fade from my attention; I would like to compose it while it is fresh in my mind. I promise, I will at one point, continue with my other phics. Thank you all for your patience! Did you enjoy this brief introduction as much as I did? It took forever to write xD I pray it was worth it! I look forward to your reviews :)**


	2. Chapter One: A Deal of Sorts

**A/N- **

**Thank you for the marvelous reviews! I am forever grateful. ;) **

Chapter One

_A Deal of Sorts _

The maestro sat in a hunched position, fortifying a wall of protest against the shrill thoughts of defeat. He lifted his gaze for a hesitant moment, clearing his vision of the notes along the staff. Slowly, and with a light touch, he ran his hands along the keys of the organ with an indifferent sigh at the mocking notes upon the score. "_Don Juan_", printed in graceful cursive, was notable at the top of the paper.

"If only these notes could compose themselves!" He growled in his low, familiar tone.

In his rage, he took one or two papers in his grip; he crumpled them with an inferior sigh, and tossed them elsewhere.

His eyes fell to a soft close, then reopened with another trembling sigh, yet not as erratic as prior exhales. His scope tracked the rocky surface of the wall, where it came to a halt at pinned drawings resting still upon it. _ Christine.. _He thought.

His pupil.

His inspiration.

His will to live.

He ripped his longing observance away. Immediately after the thought of _her_, his hand went to the quill, and the notes and lyrics commenced.

With a slight alien smirk, he carried his quill along the parchment. Upon the paper, the new title of his piece read: "_Don Juan Triumphant_".

The ghost paused, and the smile fell- of course, a grin-less face was unnaturally common for a man such as himself.

He had, with no tremor of uncertainty, come into unfortunate contact with a most-feared dilemma. However was he to get Christine to sing the part..? Carlotta was mounted right in the middle of the path to success. How was he to assure Miss Daae obtain the position?

Narrowing his eyes and straightening his posture, the Phantom clenched his jaw. Oh, it would not be an issue, for they would obey...

**xOx **

".._Christine_.."

A soft voice fluttered slowly through her ear, echoing along her mind. Christine glanced up from her place upon the chapel floor, allowing a slight smile to grace her full lips.

".._**Christine**_.."

Once more, the voice beckoned; a resounding voice which surely originated from heaven itself.

"Angel?" Christine called.

"I am here, child.."

"Are you pleased with my performance?"

"Of course. Tonight, you sang just like an angel. You were flawless. Although, I am not too fond of your position. Chorus girl? No. You must be rewarded for such perfection. Carlotta must step down from her role as lead diva, for you are the true star." The voice responded. Although highly undetectable, it held a vengeful tone.

"Oh, Angel, you don't really believe I could take up such a role, do you?" Christine humbly inquired.

"With no doubt, you can. And you shall. You possess a great gift, which will not go unnoticed."

"Thank you." Christine replied, a gentle smile brightening her face.

**xOx **

From beyond Christine's vision, Erik observed his pupil with slight fascination.

The corners of his lips ascended in a small smile, "You are welcome, child.."

With an amorous disposition, he proceeded to study her in the silence which pursued them. To fragment such quiet, he cleared his throat- not to an extent where it was noticeable- and asked, "Is there anything you would like to discuss?"

Christine wrung her hands together, biting her lip with a pained expression (quite foreign on a girl such as she) and tilted her head heavenwards. "There is one thing which is troubling me."

"Yes..?"

"Well.. from the accumulated nine years I have known you.. I have never seen your face. Not once. Is there a reason to this, Angel? Or is your identity to stay a mystery until the day I die?"

Erik, being an individual of whom always regarded light to be an aloof thing, he never possessed the desire to stray from the shadows and comforts of night. In fact, Erik had never even contemplated the mere idea of stepping into it. His face was never visible, and that is how he had preferred it remain. With a heavy sigh, he spoke, "..I am aware I have never once allowed my face to be public. I can assure you, my dear, I do not anticipate it being revealed any time soon-"

"That is, in no way, fair. Now, Maestro, I've always allowed you to see myself. Why can I not see you?" Christine argued, "Oh, and do not tell me it is because you simply do not desire such attention..."

"Christine, it is far more complicated than you think you know."

"Please, Angel, I-"

"No, Christine."

"But-"

"I said 'no'! That is final!" Erik raised his voice, clenching his gloved fists and unfurling them repetitively.

Christine rose swiftly, the hem of her dress brushing against a candlestick. She crossed her arms and hugged them defiantly to her body, emanating a childish air, "Very well, then. I refuse to sing."

"I beg your pardon?" Erik hissed.

"You heard me. I simply will not sing. Ever again." Christine replied stiffly.

Erik, growing quite frustrated with her immodest behavior, growled deep within his throat, "Do not play games with me."

Christine was silent.

Erik clenched his jaw and demanded, "Christine? Did you hear me?"

Once more, reoccurring, a static quiet followed suit of his words.

"Fine. I shall reveal myself to you..."

Christine raised an eyebrow in interest.

"..On a single condition. You must perform first in the upcoming show that is to run in a weeks' time. But of course.. assume Carlotta's place."

"Angel! However am I to obtain such a role-?"

"You leave that to me, Christine. Now, once you have upheld your half of the condition that evening, you shall reside to the dressing room. I will be waiting there. Ensure there are no other uninvited guests with you. Promise me you will obey?"

"Yes, Maestro. I promise."

"Now, would you cease your huffing and return to practice? I am certain Madame Giry does not take too kindly to tardiness." Erik said, sternly.

"Of course, Angel. I apologize." Christine grinned.

"No harm done, I can assure you. Be off, now."

"Goodbye, Angel."

"Goodbye, Christine."

With yet another smile, Christine fled the chapel.

**A/N- **

**Yes, quite brief and lacking detail. However, I have been going through writer's block. I will try my hardest to get the next chapter up soon. **

**Please review! Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed :)**


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